She Needs You
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: Maybe Julia heard a lot more than Lexie saying her boyfriend's name... And maybe she decided to push him in the right direction."That girl needs you. She needs you so badly, so desperately... So much more than I will ever need you." Written by request; M.


Summary: Who knows? Maybe Julia heard a lot more than just Lexie saying her boyfriend's name... And maybe she decided to push him in the right direction. "That girl needs you. She needs you so badly, so desperately... So much more than I will ever need you." This is a reimagining of the last scene from 8.22 where Lexie confesses her love for Mark, which Julia unfortunately interrupted. Rated M.

Author's Note: This was written by the request of Ann D. I hope it lives up to your expectations!

Grey's Note: Okay, how _amazing _was that last scene? I think I died a hundred times while watching it, and I think I've watched it about 30 times (not an exaggeration). Chyler killed it. She _killed it. _Eric, as always, was able to communicate _so much_ without even speaking or barely blinking… I don't know how he does it. I don't know how she does it. I just know, for a fact, that it was _amazing_. I only wish it had gone a little bit more like this…

.

7 PM

.

Julia Canner is standing in the lobby of Seattle Grace-Mercy West Hospital, her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently as she looks about her. She glances down at her watch for the fifth time, wondering why he's so late today. She looks over her shoulder, and just as she's about to give up and call him, she spots him outside the window. _Finally, _she smiles, crossing the room just as he seems to be pushing off the wall he was leaning against. _There he is._

He seems to be speaking with someone, but as Julia gets closer, she watches his mouth stop moving, watches his face draw taut, watches his eyes concentrate on a single fixed point… She frowns in confusion, wondering what would cause such an intense look to appear on his face… And then she hears the voice. A female voice, one she quickly recognizes as belonging to Dr. Grey. But it isn't Lexie's voice that stops her from interrupting their conversation, it isn't the girl's presence near her boyfriend that stops her dead in her tracks…

It's what she's saying, and the heart wrenchingly desperate way she speaks.

.

"I love you," Lexie blurts, unable to hold it in anymore. Her eyes go wide in shock a second later, as if she couldn't believe the words that just left her mouth. "Oh, god!" She cries, immediately embarrassed. "Oh my god, that just came f—flying out of my face. I—I—I love you. I just—" Her embarrassment quickly turns to hysterics as a bright a smile flashing across her face, laughter accompanying it. "I did it again! I, I, I love you. I, I, I do. I just, I—I love you. And I have been _trying _not to say it, I have been trying _so hard _to just _mash it down_ and ignore it and _not _say it and… Jackson is a—great guy," she calls, suddenly switching tacts and throwing her arm out. Insult covers Mark's face at the mention, and he turns his head in the direction she indicated as if expecting the intern in question to materialize the moment his name was called.

"He—He is," Lexie continues a half-second later, unable to stop talking. "He's gorgeous and he's—younger than you and he doesn't have any grandkids or babies with his lesbian BFFs and he's an Avery and he—he liked me! You know? He—he _really _liked me. But it was never gonna work out—because I, I love _you_. I am _so _in love with you. And—you're—you're in me; you're—it's like you're a disease!" She calls, throwing her arms out at him. "It's like I am infected by _Mark Sloan_ and I just can't…" She seems to laugh for a second before her voice turns tragic. He wonders, idyll, how she manages to get the words out without crying; they sound so horribly clogged with tears. "I can't think about _anything_ or _anybody_ and I can't _sleep_," she nearly cries, "I can't _breathe, _I can't eat and I just—I _love_ you. I love you, all the time! Every minute of every day, and I—I—I—" She takes a breath, calming herself. "I… love… you. _God,_" she exclaims a moment later,unable to hide her relief, "that feels good just to—to say that! I feel so much better! I just—I love you!" She takes a quick breath, realizing in shock that she can hear his: labored, stressed… "Mark?" She whispers, almost taking a step forward. She opens her mouth, ready to ask again, ready to hear his answer—

.

"Hey, Lexie," Julia calls, unable to hide in the dark any longer. She has to make her presence known. Overhearing what she just overheard made her privy to way too many secrets she's sure she should never be let in on. "I thought you said the lobby," she begins, trying to do her best not to look as frazzled as she feels. "You ready?" She turns to Mark immediately, not wanting to see that scared deer-in-the-headlights look on the girl's face any longer… And immediately regrets looking to him. Clearly, from the stunned look on his face, the younger Grey's words hit him hard. But his reaction wasn't all shock. As she stares into his eyes, she can see it. That longing.

The girl's words weren't unwanted, Julia Canner realizes slowly. She stares at him, seeing the last few pieces of the puzzle fit together as his eyes tighten in a mixture of fear, indecision… And great longing. It was the longing that did it for her, the longing that made her realize, in a split-second, that those heartfelt tearful words Lexie had just spouted out to him… They weren't unwelcome, they weren't unwanted… And they were unrequited, either.

She can see it in his eyes, plain as day. He loves her too.

.

But he can't breathe. He can only stare. Between her, his girlfriend, and her, the… The love of his life.

"Excuse me," the latter whispered before he could speak, already scurrying away without another word. Mark watches her go, desperately wanting to call her back, to reach out and take her hand, to stop her—_for once_—from walking away…

But he can only watch, speechless and rooted to the spot, as she turns and runs.

.

Derek Shepherd looks up from the magazine he'd been glancing through when he hears the door bang open. He gets to his feet quickly, almost colliding with his sister-in-law as he makes his way to the door.

"Oh!" She shouts, jumping away from him immediately.

"Easy," he laughs, taking a step back. "It's just me. Didn't mean to scare you, Lex."

"You—You didn't."

He looks over at her, trying to meet her eyes even though she does her best to avoid his. "Lexie?" He wonders quietly after a moment. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine," she replies, too quick and sharp to be telling the truth.

"Lexie," he murmurs, stepping forward. "What…"

"Nothing!" The word explodes from her mouth in a furious shout, and he almost jumps this time when her head snaps up. He's never seen her look so out of sorts, so upset, so…

"Lexie, are you… crying?"

"No!" The word is barely discernable through the sob that carries it, but she doesn't bother repeating it. Before he can demand a real answer, she's turned away, scurried up the stairs, and slammed her bedroom door after her.

Derek Shepherd sighs, knowing he can't do anything except return to his magazine until she's ready to talk. He walks slowly back to the living room, wishing with all that he has that Meredith was home to sort this out this instead of him. It's one emotional fiasco too many that he's had to deal with for today, as far as he's concerned.

.

"Wow," Julia comments quietly, crossing her arms over her chest to ward off the cold night. "That…" She stares out at the dark parking lot; though it's been nearly ten minutes since the girl left, Julia could swear she could still see her running off. "That sure was something," she finished eventually, her eyes moving to focus on the man standing beside her.

It takes Mark Sloan a few seconds to meet her eyes, and many more to remember who she was. "J… Julia," he manages finally, staring at her face and yet still seeing another. "I, sorry, I…" He swallows, not even knowing what to apologize for. _She was waiting for me or something? The lobby?_ "I…"

"You don't need to explain."

Mark's stares at her, his eyes narrowing as his confusion deepens. "What…?"

"I heard her, Mark." Julia Canner looks away, shaking her head in polite disbelief. He feels his body seize up, waiting for the anger and betrayal to flood her features. "I…" She gives him a small smile; and he can barely believe it. _Isn't she supposed to be hitting me? Or at the very least yelling? _"I guess I must be as stunned as you look." She smiles again. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you didn't see that coming?"

"See…" He swallows, trying to get his brain to work double-time to catch up with all that's occurred in the last five minutes. "See… that…"

"Her whole speech," Julia replies with a flourish of her hand and another one of those polite smiles. _Why isn't she yelling? _He wonders again, mesmerized. "I mean…." She laughs softly. "_Wow_. It was a little choppy and completely all over the place—a bit insulting, too, if I'm being honest—but…" She surveys him critically, but without even the smallest hint of displeasure. "I suppose it had the desired effect."

"You… heard?" He manages to ask, barely comprehending what she's saying to him. "That whole… thing?"

"Yeah," Julia chuckles, leaning against the concrete half-fence. "Yeah, I heard that. I mean, the girl was practically yelling. Crying her heart out, for all to hear…"

"I…" He tries to swallow, tries to organize his thoughts. "I don't think she meant for… for other people to hear it…"

"No, no," Julia replies immediately, looking scandalized. "No, of course she didn't mean for anyone else but you to hear! Least of all me," she adds with a brief smile. "But, uh, here we are…" She stares at him for a long minute. Finally, she draws a breath. "Kids," she begins, taking a step towards him. "Kids are something I can have with anyone."

He closes his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. _Emotional overload. Pain goes straight to the head._ "Julia…"

"I can do that with anyone," she repeats, as if he hadn't spoken. She offers him a small smile. "And I really like you, Mark, I do. We've had a great time together But I…" She pauses, and an apology flickers in her eyes. "Let's be honest; I don't love you. Not really. And you… You don't love me. Now," she continues softly, "I'm sure if we gave it a few years, we could easily learn to love each other. I could get pregnant with your kid, we could buy a house in the suburbs, commute in together to work…" She stares at him, tilting her head to the side. "But be honest with me, because I was honest with you: Doesn't that kill you inside, just a bit? Or even a lot," she adds, "maybe it kills you a lot?" She pauses, inclining her head towards his; obviously waiting for an answer.

Eventually, he finds it in himself to breathe and process her words… And her request. "Yes," he replies, unable to hold back the truth. "You're right, it—it—"

"It kills you, right?" She affirms. "I knew it. A part of you would die forever if we did that. And Mark…" She sighs, but the gesture is devoid of malice or judgment. She simply sounds tired after a long day at work. "I don't want to do that. I don't want to spend my life with someone who's only half alive, with someone who only loves me with half of his heart, who only thinks about me when he's done pining after the woman he really loves… So, Mark," she breathes quietly, "I think now would be a good time to write the end of our little adventure. It was fun while it lasted, but…" She gives him a smile. "But come on," she chuckles warmly, "that girl _needs_ you. She needs you so badly, so desperately…" She closes her eyes for a second. "She needs you… _so much more _than I need you. So much more than I will _ever _need you." She nods her head out towards the parking lot they watched Lexie disappear into almost twenty minutes ago. "Go," she instructs. "Go find her and…" She can't help but grin. "Work things out."

"Julia, I…"

She smiles; even her eyes are warm as they regard him. "I'll see you around, okay? Good luck, Mark."

And without another word, Julia Canner turned and walked away the way she'd came, just like Lexie Grey had done. Mark watched her leave for a long while. When he finally manages to unstick his feet from the ground, he walks slowly to his car, unlocks it, and sits in the driver's seat for almost an entire hour. He spends most of that time trying to digest all Lexie had told him—and acknowledge that Julia had made him a free man. Eventually, he puts the car in reverse and heads home. He paces within his apartment for a good hour or two, planning and planning and planning again. He thought, he thought, he thought… Of the future, of the past, of the present…

And he finally realized that there was only one person he ever wanted to share all that time with. Then he began searching for his coat, hoping it wasn't too late.

.

Derek Shepherd gives her a few hours to herself. He makes a sandwich, watches some basketball, skims a few medical journals… He spends the night waiting for her to come out of her room. She never does.

Finally, around nine forty-five, he decides that enough is enough. And he moves to climb the stairs.

He pauses outside of her door, listening for the telltale sounds of a woman crying. His ears strain… But he can't hear anything. He can't even hear her breathe. He sighs quickly, realizing that she's probably already asleep, and knocks on the door softly.

"Lexie?" He calls tentatively. "Are you okay?"

Her returning mumble is so far from incoherent he isn't even sure she's speaking English. Gently, he turns the knob and pushes the door open. She's lying on top of her bedspread, clothes on, shoes on, staring straight up at the ceiling. He feels his stomach turns when he realizes her face is covered in tears. "Lexie…" He whispers, stepping closer and shutting the door quietly behind him. He quickly takes a seat on a nearby chair, dragging it to her bedside. "Little Grey…"

"I…" She swallows, her throat convulsing with the gesture. "I made such an idiot out of myself, Derek." She sucks in a painful breath. "I—I said everything. _Everything. _I put it all out there, I laid every detail bare, I waited, and he…" Her voice catches. "He just _stared_."

"Lexie," Derek murmurs, folding his hands together.

"Like—Like he didn't even hear me or care or bother to acknowledge—"

"He was probably just in shock, Lex—"

"I don't care if he was in shock!" She protests, jumping up and spinning around to face her brother-in-law. "He—He did it to me, and I—I replies, I said—"

"Wait," Derek holds up a hand. "What do you mean he did it to you? He said something to you?" Derek can't help but smile. "Lexie, that's great, what did he—"

She shakes her head rapidly, almost violently. "No! No, not now. This—This was—_Oh,_" she half-cries, "this was _years _ago." She pauses to gather herself. "He—He came up to me, it—it was just a week before the shooting, and he said to me… He said…"

Derek gives her a moment to attempt to continue, but when she doesn't, he presses quietly, "What did he say to you?"

"He said I could have a husband," Lexie replies through barely-moving lips. "I was with Alex, I was taken, but he—he looked me in the eye, and he just—he said it all. He told me he loved me, he told me he wanted to be with me…" She lifts a hand to her mouth. "And I—I said I had a boyfriend—but at least I _replied, _Derek!" She shouts suddenly, jumping to her feet. "At least I had the courtesy to say something, no matter how little he wanted to hear it!"

"Lexie, maybe he didn't know what to say," Derek tries again, trying to stay patient. "Maybe he was just so overwhelmed—"

"Oh, stop it," Lexie snaps angrily. "He's Mark. Nothing overwhelms him."

"Well, did you give him a chance to reply?"

Lexie shakes her head, biting her tongue. She doesn't want to go into Julia's surprise entrance. That would be just too embarrassing to recount. Too saddening.

"Wait till tomorrow," Derek instructs when she fails to answer. "Then go find him. Give him the night to think, Lex. It'll do him good to think over what you said."

Lexie nods, easily seeing the logic in this plan. "You think he'll… You think he'll speak to me tomorrow, then? He'll tell me his decision? Even if it's the bad one?"

Derek smiles, reaching out to squeeze his sister-in-law's hand briefly. "He'll tell you," he assures her. "He just needs some time, some space, to figure out _what _to tell you."

Lexie nods again, and Derek drops her hand, looking visibly relived to have sorted out this dilemma quite easily. "I'm going to go to bed, alright," he calls, pausing by the door, "but I trust you'll be okay here for the night? You'll survive?"

Lexie can't help but give her ever-optimistic brother-in-law a smile, despite how horrid she feels. "Yeah," she whispers, meeting his eyes, "I'll survive. And I'll see you tomorrow."

"He'll tell you, Lex," Derek calls as he's closing the door. "You just have to wait through the night."

It isn't ten minutes after her brother-in-law leaves that Lexie Grey realizes that she won't last even _one_ hour, let alone an entire night. She needs an answer. Even if it's one that will kill her, she needs to know his decision.

So she slips on her shoes, grabs her jacket, and peeks her head out the door. When she sees Derek's bedroom door is closed, and she doesn't hear another sound in the house, she realizes she has an opportunity. _It's now or never, _she thinks, tiptoeing to the stairs. _And I have to find out now._

.

10 PM

.

If Mark Sloan wasn't already on his way out the door, he would ignore the infuriating person knocking incessantly on the other side of the wood. It's been less than fifteen seconds since the first tap of a fist against his front door, but since then, the banging has averaged about two knocks per second, most recently jumping up to three.

He's getting ready to bite the head off of the visitor as he strides to the door. With his hand hovering over the door's handle, he takes a breath, puffing out his chest, and gets ready to shout at the person on the others side of the wall. But then he opens the door—and loses his breath at the sight before him.

"I'm—I'm—I'm sorry," she whispers the second their eyes meet. Her brown eyes blink over at him, partly hidden by her long bangs. "I'm sorry for showing up, I'm sorry it's so late… But I can't wait, Mark. I—I can't, not anymore. It's—It's been only a—a few hours, I know, and I tried, but I can't. I can't wait. I'm sorry for showing up here, at your home, but Mark, please, I—I need to know. Just tell me, please, once and for all—do you love me too?"

.

He stares at her for a second, swallowing his fear. She's shocked him into silence again. He wonders when he'll start getting used to the way she seems to blindside him every time she opens her mouth. A smile flickers on his face at the thought. Without a word, he steps forward. He watches her suck in a breath, sees her eyes fly to his, takes in the disbelief and anticipation that flash across her face—just before he lowers his mouth to hers. Surprised beyond belief, she can barely manage to kiss him back—but when she does, she exhibits a passion he can't remember experiencing in years, or from any other woman.

"You have impeccable timing," he whispers as their mouths draw apart slowly, "because I was just heading out to find you."  
"You were?" She wonders, an enormous smile spreading over her face.

He nods, smiling. "Yeah," he murmurs, reaching up to brush a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "I was ready to show up at your door, ready to tell you I love you too, I love you back, just as intensely…" He smiles. "But you beat me to it."

If possible, Lexie feels her heart burst even more at those words. _I love you too._ She can barely even wrap her mind around them. _But, _she realizes a split-second later. _But—_"But Julia—"

He shakes his head immediately. "We're done. She broke it off with me."

"She—" Lexie frowns, trying to make sense of this surprising turn of events. "She what?"

"She realized…" He grimaces slightly, glancing away for a moment. "Well…" He pulls on his earlobe nervously. "She heard what you said, and…"

"Oh, god…" Lexie whispers, her eyes going wide. _How much did she hear? Everything?_

"She realized that…" He sighs, relying on her words. "Well, as she put it, she realized that you needed me more than she needed me. And she let me go." He finds her eyes. "So I could be with you instead."

"I…" Lexie stares up at him, at a loss for words. And even though she knows she should feel embarrassed, she should feel violated and in violation herself, she feels nothing but relief. Pure, blissful relief. "I've never been so grateful to be eavesdropped on before," she beams.

"Me neither." He smiles, stepping back and holding the door open. "Would you like to come inside, then?"

Lexie grins, nodding quickly and following right on his heels.

"So," he calls, pulling off the jacket he'd put on to wear to her house and tossing it on the counter. "Would you like something to drink?"

Lexie smiles, depositing her jacket atop his and laughing quietly as she trails behind him. Just as he's reaching out for the refrigerator's handle, she sneaks up behind him, wrapping her arms around his front and lifting her hands to clutch his shoulders and pull his body back against hers. "Can't we skip the charade, Mark?" She whispers in his ear.

He feels his body spark in excitement at her low, seductive voice, but he forces himself not to give in right away. _Wait, _he thinks. _We have to wait. _He turns his head to meet hers, eyebrows raised. "What charade?"

She rolls her eyes, but his rebuff has the desired effect—she lets go and steps back. "White wine, if you have it."

Mark smirks, pulling open the refrigerator door. "If I have it…" He mocks. He pulls out the bottle—barely opened—and turns around to find her dangling two glasses in her hands.

"I would suggest the bedroom," she smiles impishly, "but I'm guessing you'd prefer the couch."

He grins, waving the way. "You guessed right."

.

"So," she beings quietly an hour later, tracing patters on his knee with her index finger as they lie against one another on the couch, "are you ever going to tell me why you don't want to have sex with me?"

He snorts, automatically drawing her closer with an arm around her back. "Who said I don't want to have sex with you?"

Lexie rolls her eyes, swatting at his bent kneecap before her. "I've made about five different passes at the bedroom tonight, and you've shot down every single one."

"Maybe I want to take things slow this time," he replies.

"And maybe you're high, too."

He smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "God, I certainly hope not."

She preens at the touch, snuggling her head against his chest and neck. "I love you, you know," she whispers softly into the silent room. "I really do love you."

"Really?" He yawns. "I had no idea." He smiles when he feels her shove against him. "You only said it about fifteen times in the space of two minutes."

"I didn't say it fifteen times," Lexie mutters, her cheeks pinking with embarrassment. "Ten, at most."

"Oh, at most!"

"Stop it," she smiles, poking his ribs. She tilts her head up a moment later, meeting his eyes. "And you've only said it twice," she accuses him.

"I guess I have to even the score, then," he replies, bending down to touch his lips to hers. He keeps his eyes closed as they pull away; as he does so, she watches his nostrils flare with each breath. She feels her body tingle at the idea that he's breathing her in; though she does exactly that with him, she never once thought of it as a two-way street. "I've missed you," he murmurs, his soft words interrupting his thoughts.

She smiles, watching as his eyes open to meet hers. "I'm here now," she reminds him.

His face lights up at the words, and she swears she could die right here and now and be content—with the relief on his face, the happiness in his voice, the love in his heart… She sighs quietly, holding him closer.

"For a long time," he begins, "I never thought we would ever get another chance. I never thought we would be together again. When you left the last time, I…" He closes his eyes; he doesn't open them again until he finished speaking. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought I would be unhappy forever, alone forever."

"You weren't alone," she reminds him quietly. "You had Julia. And you—you could've had any woman you wanted, I'm sure."

"Yet I didn't want anyone but you. And…" He pauses, staring into her eyes. "I'll always feel alone, Lexie, so long as we're apart."

"Oh, Mark…"

"But when you're here…" He tapers off, unable to stop that joyous smile from taking over his face. "When you're here, I forget everything else. I forget the pain, the heartache, the loss, the anger, the sadness—I forget _everything, _because all that matters at this moment, all that _ever_ matters—is that I have you."

She smiles, leaning forward to kiss him soundly on the mouth. "I love you," she whispers a few minutes later when the pull apart.

"Damn," Mark mutters, "now I owe you another one."

Lexie smirks. "Maybe if we'd headed straight to the bedroom like I'd suggested, I'm sure you'd have paid me back in full, perhaps double, by now."

He rolls his eyes, his arm wrapping around her more snugly. "Maybe so," he smiles, unable to stay sarcastic on a night like this.

.

"It's nearly midnight," she whispers, finding his impenetrable, unreadable blue eyes with obvious yearning in hers. "And I would love it if we could…" She trails off, her eyes drifting pointedly to his bedroom door. When he merely sighs in reply, she sits up. "Okay," she mumbles, righting herself on the couch, "spill. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Mark replies, straightening up as well. "Everything's perfect. It's just…" He reaches back, scratching his neck. "It's…"

"It's just what?"

"I don't want anything to go wrong," he admits almost inaudibly. "I don't want us to have this one perfect night together and then tomorrow you wake up and—"

She cuts him off before he can even say it. "I could never regret this, Mark."

"You may not feel the same way in the morning, Lexie."

"_Mark,_" She mutters, his name exiting her mouth in an angry half-growl. "Please do not tell me you thought my whole speech earlier was an exaggeration." Her voice rises. "Because when I said I couldn't _breathe _without you—"

"No," he interrupts, never wanting her to think that she's discredited in his eyes. "No, you were telling the truth, I know that. I could see it on your face and hear it in your voice—"

"Then what?" Lexie cuts in desperately. "What is it? What's holding you back? Why don't you want to be with me? Don't you—Don't you want me still?"

"Lexie," he sighs. He hangs his head for a moment; Lexie looks on in silent horror. "Lex, of _course _I want to be with you. Of course I want you. I would be insane not to. And…" He swallows. "A hundred times tonight, Lex, I've thought about dragging you off to bed, about giving in—"

"So why haven't you? What's stopped you?"

He stares at her; she studies his face and she knows he's physically biting his tongue to keep the words in.

"Just say it," Lexie finally whispers.

"If this is our last chance together," he informs her, "I don't want to fuck it up with sex. I don't want to make this any more complicated than it—"

"It's just _sex, _Mark!"

He takes a series of slow breathes, appraising her. "Tell me," he whispers, "what would you do, if we had sex right now, tonight, and you found out in two or three weeks that you're pregnant?"

"Well, that's ridiculous," Lexie replies, brushing the scenario to the wayside just as he feared and knew she would, "because that isn't happening."

"And why is that?" He wonders tiredly.

"Well, because for starters, we _always _use protection—condoms, the pill, everything… And secondly…" She sighs sadly. "Well, we haven't had sex tonight, have we?"

"Lexie," he murmurs, "I'm serious." He looks her in the eye. "We've been together before, that much is obvious, but tonight… Tonight is the start of something else, something new between us." She nods in agreement. "You said I was the love your life—well, Lex, you're mine, too. You're _mine, _okay?"

"I know that," she replies quietly.

"Well…" He swallows, forcing himself to stay calm and hold it together. "To me, Lexie, that means…" He sighs, and because he hasn't found the right words yet, he stalls. "What I say you're the love of my life—that means I won't ever love anyone else."

"I won't love anyone else, either," she whispers, a smile peeking out of her serious expression.

"Ever," he finishes flatly. "After you—" He shakes his head. "This is it. Over. I'm done after you. There's no one else. There will never be anyone else."

"Mark," she whispers with a half-broken half-happy smile, "Mark, there's no one else for me, either. You know that. You _know _that."

He nods. "I do. I do know that. But…" He takes a breath. "Because there's no one else, because you're it for me, for _life, _that means certain things will be happening…" He pauses to look her in the eye. "Marriage," he manages to inform her, "and—and kids, if we ever figure that out, those…" He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to God that she won't run out again. "Those things will come, okay?" He swallows again, holding her serious gaze. "They will come and you have to be ready for them."

It takes Lexie a few seconds to gather her thoughts. "Why do _I _have to be ready?" She wonders quietly. "Why just me and not you too?"

He gives her a tiny smile. "Because," he replies, "I've been ready for years." He doesn't pause to appreciate the surprise that flashes into her eyes. "I've been ready for years and I'm ready right now—ready for you, ready for us, for the future… But Lex," he murmurs, "I need you to tell me right now, right here, before we go any further: are you in or out?"

"For the long haul?"  
He nods. "For the long haul."

"Getting married, buying a house, having kids…" He feels his breath leave him as the smallest smile peeks out at the edges of her mouth as she speaks. "Creating retirement plans and figuring out pensions… Rolling around in wheelchairs while we shit ourselves at ninety years old…" She can't help but smile, a quick giggle escaping from between her pink lips. "Mark, there is no one else I have ever or could ever imagine myself sharing that sort of life with. No one else," she whispers, "except you." Her smile widens to include her shining teeth. "You're it, babe. You're my guy."

Cautiously, he lets a smile spread over his face. Her wide smile fuels his. Soon, they're grinning at each other so wide their cheeks hurt, and then laughing at the silly, wonderful source of the pain. Mark bends forward, pressing his mouth hard against hers. She can almost make out an _I love you _somewhere in his demanding kiss, but with his hands starting to run all over her front and back and sides, she's having a hard time focusing on any of the mumbled words coming out of his mouth. But just as she's beginning to catch up, just as she's starting to see where things are going—he pulls her up into his arms, hefting her easily up against his waist as she gasps in surprise.

"Time to go to bed, 'lil Grey?" He wonders with a smile, his hands gripping her body tight against his. She grins widely, and he only has a mere second to take in the beauty of her happy face before it crashes against his. Her hands gravitate to his head, fisting into his hair and the color of his shirt. She can hear him groan into the kiss—whether in deep arousal or slight pain, she's unsure—but then he starts making his way towards the bedroom, and every other thought flies out of her head…

"I want to take things slow," he informs her breathlessly, just after depositing her on the bed and covering her body with his.

"Slow?" Lexie protests between kisses, incredulous. "Mark, it's been over half a year—"

"I'm well aware of how long it's been, Lexie." His eyes find hers, serious and almost gravely concerned… "I'd like to take my time with you, love."

"But…" She arches her back, pressing her pelvis against his and hooking her legs around his waist. In one fluid movement, she's flipped them around and is straddling his wide hips tightly. She grins down at him. "Can't we just go hard and fast first? As a prelude to the long and drawn-out main show?"  
She watches his face as he physically has to hold himself back from doing as she suggested, and she smiles to herself. Her victory is already half-won, especially with a man like Mark. "Please, baby?" She whispers, rocking her hips slowly against his, tantalizing him. From experience, she knows that all he needs are a few well-placed teasings. "I really need you, Mark. _Only _you."

"Lexie," he grounds out.

"What?" She pouts. "You can't tell me you don't want me too."

"I want to—take my time."

"You can take your time later," she whispers with a smile, bending down towards him. Before he can speak, she takes his face in both her hands and kisses him deeply on the mouth. It takes a few seconds, but soon enough he's kissing back, groaning in pleasure, and sliding his tongue out to meet hers.

They're both short of breath when they manage to part, but even that handicap doesn't stop Lexie. She's unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper by the time he comes back to earth enough to reach down and still her hands with his.

"_Slow,_" he stresses, chaining her wrists in his hands. "You're not going slow."

She shakes her head. "That's because I _can't_ go slow."

He stares up at her, and she looks down into his eyes. She forces herself not to smile when he sighs; she doesn't want to play up her imminent victory just yet. But a second later—when he reaches up, flipping them over and pinning her beneath him on the bed—she realizes she had it all wrong.

He grins down at her as she tries to catch her breath; she was too surprised by his deft movements to even yelp in shock. But she does smiling up at him, acknowledging silently that it's been _much _too long since she was with a lover of his caliber. Seconds later, his fingers are already skimming smoothly along her sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He cups her face momentarily, just long enough to bend down and cover her lips with his. She falls into the kiss immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck and back, clutching him close…

Until she feels them being gently pried away. Her eyes open in surprise when she feels him untangle her arms from his body, holding them above her head with one hand. The other cups her face, stroking her cheek gently. She nearly moans aloud when his teeth nip at her lower lip.

"Hands," he murmurs against her mouth when they break momentarily for air, "hands stay up here."

He watches the indignation flash across her face with a smugness she's grown to love over the years. She opens her mouth to protest, but he shushes her with a quick kiss.

"You wanted it hard and fast?" He grins down at her. "Well, this is my price: keep your hands up there. No touching."

She deliberates for a half-second. "Deal."

His returning smirk, as conceited as it is, only makes her grin. "Knew it," he boasts.

"Yes, aren't you _so _intuitive," she coos. His eyes narrow menacingly at her teasing, but she only laughs, her head falling back against the mattress. Her laugher turns to moans a second later as his hands slip beneath her shirt, cupping her breasts greedily and running his fingers over their hardening peaks hungrily. "Mark," she gasps, bucking her hips against his, "please—"

He lifts a hand, raising it to hold hers in place just as they'd tried to drift down to hold him. "Ma-ark," she groans impatiently, already regretting agreeing to his terms. It's so _hard _not to touch him. It's—It's _impossible._

"Hands off," he smirks, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as he lifts up a pillow and presses it on top of her hands. He looks her in the eye. "Keep 'em there."

She groans an incoherent curse. "I'll try my best," she mutters, nipping at his lips and running her tongue against his. "But no promises."

"Fast or slow," he smiles. "It's up to you and your self-discipline."

Her eyes narrow at the challenge. "I already told you I wanted fast."

He grins, kneeling back on the bedspread to remove his shirt and pants. He hears her whimper softly as he bares more and more skin; the almost-silent sound nearly drives him mad with want. Just before taking off his underwear, he catches her eye. "Like what you see?" He wonders huskily, his hands hovering just above the waistband.

"Mark…" He can hear the unspoken threat in her voice—_take it off now or else_—and he smiles at the sound. A second later, he drops back down to a crouch above her, pressing his lips to hers. She bucks against him again, and he can hear her groan when she feels only the fabric of his underwear against her, nothing more.

"I want you, Mark," she whispers, tearing her lips from his. "Please. Please, I want you. I _need _you."

"You'll have me," he promises, finding it harder and harder to deny her as time goes by. "Just wait a little longer."

"I _can't wait_, Mark!" She protests, even as his hands begin fumbling with her button down shirt and the clasp of her jeans. "Pull them off," she commands, nodding towards her skin-tight jeans. "Please, Mark… Ah…" She sighs happily when he tosses the pants on the far side of the room. She's smiling back up at him when he turns back to her. She arches her back, showing off her breasts that are currently heaving in the confines of her bra. "Looks like you forgot something, doctor."

He smiles, ducking down and pressing his lips against her ear. "I can't imagine what," he whispers into it, just before trailing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, around the cups of her bra…

"Mark, please," she whispers. Her eyes are wide, deep, and pleading. He stares into them for so long, he swears he gets lost within their brown confines.

"You can touch me now," he whispers finally, giving in once more, "if you like."

Her arms are around him in a flash, one hand grappling at the back of his neck while the other digs its nails into his shoulder blade as she pulls his body so close to hers she could swear they're already become one. She swallows a disgruntled sound when she remembers just how much clothing is separating them…

"Bra," she manages, tearing her lips from his for a just a split-second to voice the word.

Mark Sloan doesn't need to be told twice. He fiddles with the clasp for a moment, and once it's open, he tosses the undergarment away, letting it fall to the floor somewhere. It's immediately forgotten as they focus on what's left to dispose of.

Again, he rocks back on his knees to remove his clothing, and just like before, she lies back to enjoy the show. He could swear—and would later boast to her at their most private moments—that she licked her lips just before he removed his underwear.

By the time he fell back against the bed, she'd done away with her underwear, and as she laid naked beneath him, she'd taken a moment and thought, just for a second—_He's mine._ And when his body teased hers a moment later, and then swiftly entered her tight channel in one hard push, she cried out his name; declaring herself his for anyone in earshot to hear—most importantly, for _him _to hear. He withdrew briefly before thrusting back in—each of her pants boosted his blood pressure, each of her moans made his skin crawl, and every whimper, sigh, and shout that emanated from her mouth made him push in and out harder, faster, deeper. Even when her words turned incoherent, they still drove him on. Again and again.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." The words left his mouth continuously, an endless promise, soon turned into a lifelong mantra. From a whisper to a shout, spurred from deep breaths to become gasping pants, he never stopped, never let up—

Until she cried out his name, her voice hoarse and fatigued with completion—

And then he crashed over the edge with her. It didn't take him more than a millisecond, for he was already on the same page as she.

At 1:14 AM, their joint, wonderful world exploded with a dizzying array stars, burst into colors they could barely see, and erupted with screams and shouts of each other's names as they collapsed in on one another like a burning, dying star.

.

They don't rise from the ashes until mid-morning the next day. When she rolls over, still half-asleep, her shoulder just lightly bumps into his, but it's enough to wake them both.

"We should take the day off," she whispers, his lips already migrating to his neck as they lie beside each other. "And call in sick."

He can't help but smile, automatically lying back as she rolls atop him and settles her slim body above his. "And what exactly are we sick with?" He smiles, running his hands lightly over her hips and ass. She ignores him, choosing to focus on placing deep kisses against his skin. "Oh, I know," he murmurs a moment later, a grin pulling up the sides of his lips. "You'vebeen _infected_, now, haven't you?"

She chuckles. "Sure, Mark, tell them whatever you want. Bubonic plague, polio…" She laughs quietly to herself.

"Oh, Lexie, I'd at least tell the truth."

She frowns, pulling back to look him in the eyes in quiet confusion _Huh?_ Her face asks.

"You've been infected by Mark Sloan," he smirks up at her. "And you've been carrying the disease for some time, as far as I can tell…"

Her eyes are rolling in their sockets before he even finishes talking. "Stop," she mumbles, looking away.

"What?" He chuckles. "You said so yourself. You called me a disease, said you were infected."

"I was trying to get my point across," Lexie replies. "It seemed like a good thing to say at the time."

"You called me a _disease," _Mark repeats flatly. "If you wanted to get your point across, you could have at least _tried _to go with a flattering metaphor."

Lexie pulls back, crossing her arms as she hovers above him. "Uh-huh," she mutters. "And you have something in mind, I take it?"

He smirks at the annoyance on her features. "Just say you're addicted to me," he replies happily. "We both know it's true."

She raises her eyebrows. "And you're not addicted to _me?_"

He grins back, propping himself up on his elbows to close some space between them. "Oh, I never said that, Little Grey."

She smiles back, and in a second, their lips are crashing back together again. All thoughts of calling in sick are forgotten, but they still find some treatment for what ails them. They dose the painful separation that's plagued them for so long by spending the rest of the day wrapped in each other's arms and never leaving

.

_Author's Note: What do you think? Anyone else wish it had worked out just like this? (Hey, it still could!) :) Please leave me a review with your thoughts!_


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